


why bother postponing judgement day

by shannyan



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, M/M, Pining, idk.. it only kinda diverges, light catches feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23954365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shannyan/pseuds/shannyan
Summary: Light delays L's last day, in the hope that he can convince L to change. The fact that Light actually feels something like hope makes him think anything is possible.
Relationships: L/Yagami Light
Comments: 10
Kudos: 88





	why bother postponing judgement day

  
  


Light didn’t account for how much it hurt when his memories returned. 

Of course, he understood that three months worth of information flooding his brain would be mentally straining, possibly even incapacitating, for perhaps hours if not an entire day. It’s like attaching a USB to a computer and waiting for the information to load, at the pace of the processor. 

He couldn’t help it— he screamed, loud and unrestrained, though he didn’t even hear himself. But it’s fast, he was fast, he’s  _ back _ — it was a conscious effort to keep his voice even, face still— he couldn’t muster enough of it so he slouched, turned away, smiled. 

He’s won. 

Writing Higuchi’s name in blood is easy, trivial, just as planned— he was giddy, sweaty, proud— it’s literally  _ just  _ as planned, he’s gotten away with it and he’ll continue to, no one can stop him, not even L— with this, it’s L’s defeat, isn’t it! 

His fingers shook as he waited for the seconds to tick by, to watch Higuchi crumple like paper, and as he did, the sudden descent of his body to the ground marked Light’s return, the visage of victory. 

The notebook has the fake rules to ensure that it’s kept safe. His year with L proved his innocence. The notebook’s back in his hands, with no suspicion attached. Light has won, through sheer intellect, through godlike superiority, through a likeness to a god itself, as what he demands comes to be. Now he could rid the world of his last dissenter, and operate freely, expanding his scope, his reign. 

But when he turned to L, smug and victorious, he froze. 

L can’t die. 

The thought came unbidden, loud and insistent, every time they joined eyes that day. 

He didn’t account for overwritten data. 

It’s nothing like split personalities, like there’s another being within him, grappling for control. What he wants is the same, to create a new age, a better world properly governed, where people act accordingly under the knowledge that god is watching. But he wants more now. He wants L in that world. 

A day later and the illogical whim remains, stronger even, with a bout of rationalization to back it. 

He’s a martyr for his beliefs— his feelings aren’t, shouldn’t be a factor. But, can’t he have both? If he’s a god, shouldn’t he have the choice of who lives and dies? Is he not clever enough to keep this up forever? 

In those terms, what he wants is reasonable. Possible. But just because he can doesn’t mean he should— especially for feelings made when he wasn’t even himself. But today, back to himself, to his everyday life of being and searching for Kira, he still wants it. 

He isn’t looking, but he stumbles across L, on the roof of all places. It’s their lunch break, but Light has no appetite, instead roaming around the building. Light doesn’t usually even go up there, nor does L, from what Light’s seen since they’ve been handcuffed together, and yet here they both are right now. 

And at what a time— between the rain and wind L’s just a blurred figure, especially against the greyed sky. He stands completely unmoved, even as the rain falls against and off of him, creating a subtle halo around his body. He looks lonelier than holier. 

Whether he somehow hears Light come up or just feels his presence, his eyes swivel to the side, meeting Light’s calmly, as if expecting him. Light stiffens before finding words. 

“What are you doing standing out there by yourself?”

L’s eyes are blank but in that smart way of his, where he’s reading everything but what’s in front of him. It’s a small relief when he cups at his ear, to indicate he can’t hear Light. 

He tries once more, louder. “What are you doing standing out there by yourself?” He cups at his mouth too, like it’ll tunnel the sound between their hands, a connection despite the falling rain. 

It doesn’t work— this time he smiles playfully, leans closer and repeats the motion, for whatever good that’ll do in hearing Light.

Fine. He steps into the rain, feels it immediately seep into him, raises a futile hand to shield himself from it. They’re both doing useless things today, aren’t they. 

He normally wouldn’t bother with something so troublesome, wouldn’t seek L when he mustn’t, would at the very least grow annoyed at the needless difficulty. But he wants to humor L, today. 

He stops halfway, fully in the rain but not within arm’s distance. “What are you doing standing out there by yourself?”

The water has his clothes stick to him, outlining his uncomfortably bareboned body, the angle of his ribs to his hips a few degrees too steep. He looks starved. 

“Oh, I’m not doing anything in particular. It’s just… I hear the bell.”

“The bell?”

“Yeah. The sound of the bell’s been unusually loud today.”

“I don’t hear anything.” He could hardly hear L’s voice over the weather, much less some bells not even within eyes distance. 

“Really? You can’t hear it? It’s been ringing nonstop all day. I find it very… distracting. I wonder if it’s a church… maybe a wedding… or perhaps a… “

Funeral. 

“What are you getting at, Ryuzaki? Come on, cut it out. Let’s get back inside.”

He looks down. “Sorry.” Hunches impossibly further inward. “Nothing I say makes any sense anyway. If I were you, I wouldn't believe any of it...

Is this the image of victory? A formidable man convinced out of his capability? If Light didn’t acknowledge it, then it virtually wouldn’t exist, and then the lack of confidence would be justified. But, regardless of all of Light’s efforts, L’s been right all along, and so Light can’t simply devalue him, for his own convenience. 

It pleases him, to see his greatest heretic fall, to submit to his superiority. 

It hurts him, to see the man he respects most lose confidence in his abilities. To resign to death upon realizing he can’t win. 

“You know, you’re totally right. Honestly, most of the things you say sound like complete nonsense. There’d be no end to my troubles if I actually took you seriously all the time. I probably know better than anyone.” 

It’s teasing, but L’s eyes are uncharacteristically solemn, so much so that Light almost,  _ almost _ feels guilt. 

“That’s a fair assessment. But I could say the same about you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Tell me, Light, from the moment you were born, has there ever been a point when you’ve actually told the truth?”

Sound cuts out. L’s voice, the rain, his own breathing. He feels translucent, like the rain soaked through not just his clothes but his entire being, leaving him damp and thin. His heart stops, from the cold, he’d argue. 

It’s the most honest thing he’s ever been asked in his life. If there were any phrase to prove knowing him, then this is it. 

A defeated man on his deathbed no longer— L is a book, no, the entire library of Alexandria, unresisting as it burns, taking priceless knowledge never again to be known in this world with it. He’s right, and as long as he knows it, he’s complacent with his fate. 

L stops looking lonely to him, right now. His black eyes perfectly reflect Light’s image, no light to distort it. 

“Where is this coming from, Ryuzaki?” He’s not even trying to sound convincing. “I admit, I stretch the truth here and there— however, find me one person in this world who’s never had to tell a lie. It wouldn’t be easy. Human beings just aren’t made to be perfect like that. Everybody lies from time to time. Even so, I’ve always made a conscious effort to be careful not to tell a lie that could hurt others. That’s my answer.”

Wet bangs plastered on his face, face paled by the cold, eyes chronically dark rimmed, L looks mad for just a moment, disappointed, unconvinced, blank, but he smiles as he speaks. “I had a feeling you’d say something like that.”

_ ‘Because I know you better than anyone.’ _

Light shudders, from the cold, the  _ cold _ . “Let’s go back inside. We’re both drenched.”

He walks ahead without checking if he’s followed, eager to escape the discomfort (sourced from the conversation rather than the cited rain, they’re both aware) 

His body is chilled and heavy as he wipes himself down, half hearted but thorough. He feels weak but at the same time anxious, heart the only part of his body fast moving. 

“Well, that was certainly an unpleasant outing.” L speaks lightheartedly, for the sake of only the imaginary overhearer, to make it sound like it’s just the weather. 

“It’s your own fault.” He plays along, forever conscious of imagined ears. “I mean, what did you expect?”

“You’re right. Sorry.” 

It’s like L knows it’s his last day, and he’s preparing for it. Doesn’t want it to be too unpleasant. When else has he apologized like this? 

Light scrubs at his head even though his hair’s dry, just to keep his face hidden, even for just a moment longer. He doesn’t expect it when L drops to his knees in front of him and takes a foot in hand. 

“What’re you doing?!?” It’s a genuine reaction, but he doesn’t pull away, not quite. 

“I thought I might help you out. You were busy wiping yourself off anyway.”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to do that.”

“I can give you a massage as well. It’s the least I can do to atone for my sins. I’m actually pretty good at this.” 

What is he sorry for, exactly? Not the unbacked accusations, no, even when explicitly apologizing for those, the detective was never sorry. Everything L’s done so far has been right, so what is this so-called sin?

Of course, the rebellion to Light’s rule is a sin, the determination to bring down a god. But repentance would be to cease the rebellion. L is following it through to the very end. 

Then, the sin of surrender? 

“Fine. Do what you want.” 

So he says, but when that touch settles at the base of his foot, his leg automatically retracts, toes curling. 

“You’ll get used to it.”

His towel dried hair is tamer than Light’s ever seen, drooping like an overwatered plant. The ends of it are still wet, dripping water against Light’s bare leg, intruding on his pinpointed focus. He shouldn’t be starting on Light when he hasn’t even finished himself. 

Light doesn’t even think before grabbing his own towel and holding it to L’s head, swiping at the nearly suspended drops of water. L’s only reaction is to apologize, soft and still. 

This… is the only compromise. L can believe whatever he wants, but it’s meaningless if he can’t prove it. Light will never be able to convince him otherwise, but he can make it so that proof will never come. 

That’s the breed of this defeat, to know but never prove. L’s accepted it. He’s given up. 

Light’s won, but he doesn’t feel like he has. He has L literally at his feet apologizing, repenting, he has the means to kill him now, remove his final obstacle, properly usher his new age, and yet…

Light hasn’t won, in the sense that he couldn’t outsmart L. For L knows that he’s Kira. There are no longer any doubts, any need in cushioning blows, in sweetened words. 

His own self imposed rules are what dictates this as his loss. His own, wrong, justice. For Light, knowing is enough. After all, to just know L’s name marks his complete win. But L won’t “resort” to killing. 

Were he to accept Light’s rules, he would have won. And Light— shouldn’t wish for this, because it’d result in his death, would mean his loss, and so it’s not his wish, and yet he can’t stop feeling regretful, looking at L’s lowered eyes. 

It’s too soon to decide a winner. He wants this to continue 

L’s sin is to leave his work unfinished. 

His eyelashes clump together from the rainwater, short and flat, obscuring his eyes from Light. And while he’s usually hiding from those very eyes, it perturbes him to not see them. It doesn’t feel like it’s really L before him, touching him with a gentleness he didn’t know was within his scope. Light’s body is cold but L’s fingers are like ice, like a corpse’s. 

L’s death is indeed imminent, but not immediately so, not like… today will be their last day. His sudden unease must be from sensing the change in Light, but they have time to remedy that, to find some kind of… new normalcy. At the very least, L’s death is at the bottom of the stack, not to be touched upon until all else is cleared. 

“It’ll be lonely, won’t it?”

“Hm?”

“You and I will be parting ways soon.”

Lonely, for who? 

L’s phone rings and they part, relieving Light of needing to answer. It sounds like— bells to Light. 

“Wait!”

L blinks owlishly, looks at his still ringing phone, to Light’s hand on his wrist, tight and desperate, then back to his phone. He flips it open regardless of Light, who can only think to counter by tugging, hard, and L topples forward against him. He looks weak but is strong enough to hold his own, so Light knows he could stand his ground, if he wished. But he’s unresisting, quiet, simply watchful, face close to Light’s, body held up by a hand planted on the ground, by Light’s shoulder. Opened, the phone no longer rings, but there’s a voice at the other end, likely calling for L. 

Again, he looks at his phone, then Light. “I have to answer it.”

“No. You don’t.”

L’s breath is warm against his face, the only sign of life so far. “I want to.”

Light squeezes his wrist, wishing it’d crumble beneath the force, fracture and splinter and take on the shape of his hand. But it’s solid, retains its form regardless. It’s not enough to so much as loosen L’s grip. Light’s reluctant as he releases him, color slipping back past his knuckles. But it leaves just as quickly as he forms fists with both hands, squeezes at nothing in his frustration. 

They walk back together, L a couple of steps in front, in silence. 

Matsuda frantically ushers them in, his open face of shock making Light’s stomach sink. “Ryuzaki— you’ve somehow got approval from another country to use the notebook for an execution?”

L calmly takes a seat, knees folded against his chest. “Watari, excellent work. Thank you. First, please make the arrangements to transport the notebook immediately.”

Light’s blood goes cold. “Ryuzaki, what are you trying to do? 

“I’m gonna try out the notebook for real. The person who writes in the notebook is a criminal scheduled to be executed in just over 13 days. If we work this out, the entire case will be solved.

Panic visibly rises to Rem’s eyes and she rises, pulls out her notebook and—

“Not yet…!”

They all turn to look at him, L included. 

“Why not?” Matsuda asks. 

“...You.. shouldn’t do this in front of the Shinigami. We can’t trust it.”

L’s upturned eyes are unblinking, directed at Light as he speaks. “I don’t suppose I can ask you to leave the room.” 

Rem also looks at Light, the idiot. “I’ll follow the rest of them.”

“Then, kindly leave the room for a moment as I make the preparations.” 

Light is the first one out, walking as calmly as he can but he can’t quite breath correctly, his lungs won’t take in air when he inhales, pooling in his chest and raising the internal pressure. He feels like he’s going to set off. L’s eyes follow him the entire way, of course, wide and watching, catching that tightness, unsteadiness. 

“I need to use the restroom.” He tells the unsuspecting others without reducing stride, pacing to the single stall bathroom where he dizzily leans against the door. 

She joins him a moment after he’s left the room, just smart enough to understand the cue but not the meaning. 

“I have to kill them.”

“...No… if you discover and kill the convict after thirteen days.. you’ll solidify Misa’s alibi. At the same time, you can write… .”

He can’t believe the words as he says them, they come out winded and weak. 

“No, but—“ 

This is a precious chance, long awaited and greatly anticipated, not to be squandered for— what, exactly? Sentiment? 

“I don’t want him dead.” He’s not even talking to Rem now. Light’s never been one to think aloud, but he’s not quite talking to himself, not a self he recognizes. 

“He has to die though.” Her wide honest eyes make him feel, for a first, stupid. Because it is stupid. All of this. 

“Just— wait. It’s suspicious if it happens now. This is for the better.” 

Again, he’s speaking more to himself, but she obeys, thankfully. For, at most, 13 days. 

  
  


Day 2: 

“We know that Kira can control the actions of others, but I wonder if the holder of the note acts on free will. 

It’s like the previous day never occurred. L is indifferent, relaxed, laptop opened to a blank page, keyboard largely untouched for the day. He’s biting down on hard candy, tongue red from the artificial dye. 

“For one, I wasn’t Kira, so I wouldn’t know. And two, it doesn't affect our ability to catch him.”

“Clearly, it’s not a form of possession. The Kiras we’ve seen operated differently, with different means and motives. But they may not have had the capacity for murder beforehand.” He spins around in his chair, slow and sluggish, not catching any momentum. 

The only indication that yesterday did actually happen is his marked lack of enthusiasm, and yet he comes and works regardless. Despite Light’s claim of understanding him, he hasn’t the slightest idea what L’s thinking. 

“The rule, that one will die after thirteen days of not writing in the book, can imply that they feel the emotional need to write in it, aside from self preservation, like an appeal to their greatest wish. 

“Like the third Kira’s desire for money?”

“And the second’s desire for companionship.”

“And the first’s for justice.”

“No.” His eyes swing around to Light’s, like a pair of spotlights, inspective and intruding. “A sense of moral and personal superiority. Guised as justice, as that’s the most convincing way to seize absolute power.” 

“Justice, in his own opinion.” Light amends smoothly, sounding convincingly unperturbed. 

L hums, unmoved. 

Light almost changes the topic, as he always does, but he can’t quite move forward. “....And you thought I was him?”

“Yes. Present tense.”

“You think that I think like that.”

“I don’t like to, but facts exist regardless of my personal wishes.”

“You consider me a friend.”

“Yes.”

“While believing I’m Kira?

“Yes.”

“If you think I’m Kira, why don’t you kill me?” The clause of the sentence is decoration— really, it’s to ask how Light’s still alive. “Were I, theoretically, discovered, I’d be sentenced to death anyway. It’s not morally wrong.”

“I don’t want you to die.”

You can argue it’s a low bar but still, Light’s happy to hear that. 

“Even if I'm killing criminals?” The smallest slip, intentional, but L’s eyes don’t light up like they did before. 

“I can’t kill my friend.”

Well I can, Light thinks. Wonders. 

  
  
  


Day 3: 

Today it’s pudding, eaten delicately off a narrow spoon. The laptop is opened on a celebrity news page, Misa on the headline. Light very much doubts it’s for investigative purposes. 

“It’s like you want to die.”

“I don’t. But it isn’t in my control.”

“But it is.”

If he would just… submit, not in spirit, but in principles. 

“It isn’t.”

Meaning he’d rather die than change his mind. Light’s accepted L in this world, but L hasn’t accepted to be there. Light knows him, knows he’d do that, but—

“Haven’t you considered that Kira will continue to evade you rather than go after you?”

“Kira wants to kill me though. He’s tried.” 

Light swallows. He did. He still does. 

“Besides, what reason does he have to let me live?”

“There’s no way for us to know.”

“Speculate.” His eyes glint, challenging, curious. 

Light resists the urge to look away. “Well, our task force is the only group in the world capable of challenging him. Without the challenge, he may grow bored.”

“Kira is pragmatic. Boredom is a low cost for guaranteed safety. It’s not enough of a motivator.”

“He might… feel more than boredom.” That’s the most Light’s willing to give. 

“Hmm… I also think Kira would be lonely. This is lonely for me as well. I can’t will myself to move onto a new case, but this one is at a standstill.”

“So you’ll… just sit and wait?”

“Not exactly. I’m highly anticipating Kira’s next move.” 

“As am I.” he says, and he means it, for he still doesn’t know. 

  
  


Day 7:

L’s away on vacation, along with Watari. Which, odd enough, surprises Light, for he didn’t think L had anyone to give final goodbyes to. He’d look into it if there were any possibility that he’d find something, but he knows L has perfectly planned it, walked light enough to not even leave tracks to cover. The secrecy inspires something like jealousy, the fact that L can possibly be close to anyone else, but Light finds the restraint to not pry into it the next day. He’ll settle for 12 of his 13 days. Begrudgingly. 

Day 11: 

The days pass too quickly, are spent uselessly, with a growing sense of frustration only fastening that pace. If he couldn’t think of a solution within the first day, then nothing else would come to him, he knows that, and yet he can’t stop obsessing. 

Light hasn’t been sleeping. He refuses to, until he conjures a solution to the thirteen day timeframe. L and only L knows of the prisoner being tested with the note. His computer is too secure for Light to bother hacking in to, on the off chance that information is even stored there. 

The only solution at this point is to have Rem kill the prisoner being tested on and then L in her last 40 seconds. She has the omnipotence to find the secret prisoner, but she can’t give Light their name, nor can she kill just the prisoner without dying herself. If she’s to die, she has to take L with her, it’s the only way. 

Light could also ask her to spare L, but then Misa would be his backup, be made to get the Shinigami eyes from Ryuk in order to do so. Light could get any devotee to get the eyes, but as long as Misa lives, she’s a candidate for that, and Rem wouldn’t permit the chance. Rem has to kill L to ensure Misa doesn’t take the deal. 

It’s almost laughable, that he has the power to kill a Shinigami, but not to stop one. 

The only person who can stop this is the victim himself. Who, despite knowing nothing of the situation, seems to understand his place. And yet refuses to move. 

His death won’t prove Light is Kira. His resumed life permits the chance to later prove it. It only makes sense to give this one up,

What use are morals, integrity, in the face of death? When there’s nothing to carry along with you, nothing to burn along with your body, to mix with and become you. What value is in just  _ knowing _ you’re right. 

He doesn’t even entertain the thought of presenting this to L, however. There’s no shaking his values. If there’s any appeal he can make, it would have to be emotional. 

The less rational part of himself wants to just kidnap him. Stow him away in his room handcuffed to the desk with some books to keep him entertained. It’s not too far from his current lifestyle, in all fairness. 

Even darker, he wants to write in the note in front of him, wants to show him the pages and pages praising him on the Internet, wants to argue for hours and hours until he’s convinced him. Wants to solve L’s cases for him, in front of him, sealing the deal with personally enacted divine punishment. 

He wants to be accepted, one way or another. He wants to break him. His stubborn spirit, his morality derived from societal norms, his reservations on acting as superior as one's intellect justifies. Because L is special. His opinion is special. 

Light’s struggling to balance what he wants and what he feels. L shouldn’t be beyond that either. It’s a fact that L cares for Light. Which is baffling, considering his everlasting suspicions. How does someone with a moral compass like L’s manage to care for someone like Light? Light  _ refuses _ to believe he’s more emotionally vulnerable than L. There must be some way of getting through to him, Light just needs to find it. 

  
  


Day 12: 

  
  


“Ryuzaki. I like you.”

“Thank you, Yagami-kun. I’m happy to hear that. It isn’t very true, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

Hm. Light honestly didn’t expect that kind of reaction. 

“What does that mean?”

“There’s a degree of truth, but not enough to justify any alterations in my behavior. Nor to expect the same from you.”

His plan is blown over in an instant, except, “I think you’re underestimating me.”

Light’s never acted like this before, impulsive and hesitant, determined and indecisive. His original self would never even think to jeopardize his goals for such a frivolous thing. This is behavior from someone like— Misa. Doesn’t L see that?

“You may be overestimating me.” 

Light’s grateful he chose that word over hopeful. Still, it stings, despite himself. 

“Be direct with me. What are you thinking.”

“Right now? Hm.” He rubs his cheek against his knee. “If I should have my roll cake today or save it for tomorrow. I’d appreciate it more tomorrow, but it’ll taste better today while it’s fresh.”

Light grits his teeth and yanks L’s sharp shoulder aside so that they’re facing each other. “Is this… how you want to be spending your time, right now? Really, like this?”

“I’ll admit a love confession is more grandiose. But I don’t love Yagami-kun.”

His heart sinks, his ego wounded. It’s not like— he’s in  _ love _ with L himself, it’s much more complicated than that, meaner, competitive. Valuing L as a human being as a divorced concept from.. romance, he’s able to make that lie because it’s close to the truth after all. But romance isn’t the truth, and he must remind himself that. 

“But you’re somewhere close.” He’s not quite as confident as he sounds, but he does believe it, stubbornly so. 

L hums and hugs his knees. “Not close enough for you to snatch me up.” He looks him up and down, appraising. “I prefer completing puzzles to being a part of one. I’d rather Yagami-kun not consider me a piece necessary for completing his ego.”

“This isn’t a game to me. You should handle the situation with the assumption that I’m being serious.”

Light resents that he can’t read L’s expression, blank as ever. “Alright. Then I’ll ask why.”

“You’re the first person I've.. 

“The first person who’s challenged you.” 

“...You're only one step above saying kirasayswhat.”

A beat, then L’s eyes light up with understanding and humor, chuckling to himself. “Yagami-kun shouldn’t give me any ideas.You’ve lost the indignance of being called Kira.”

“I’ve gotten used to it. What bothers me now is your resignation.”

“Hmm… You are Kira, just as I wanted, but there’s no satisfaction with the fact. So I’m still depressed.”

“As the note says, I’d have died without writing in the book every thirteen days. So until your experiment shows results, I’m effectively cleared.”

“Thirteen days.” L echoes. “So tomorrow’s my last day.”

Not Light’s last, L’s. There’s no reason for Light to feel this impending doom. But the disappointment in the failure of his last ditch effort fills him with even more dread. 

It’s this that angers Light the most— not the accusations, the insistence, the obstinance— it’s the disregard. Forfeit was never meant to be an option between the two of them. 

So he does what he did the last time (which somewhat worked, after all). He punches L in the face. 

The force of it topples him out of his chair, upper back flush against the floor with his legs comically stuck in the air. He blinks slowly and looks at Light, who’s at his feet prepared for a fight, body braced for a reciprocated blow, but L remains there, eerily still. 

So he fights with words as well, equally effective from what he knows of L. “You have no reason to believe you’ll die besides what, a hunch? You say you want to live, but you won’t act on it, not even in the smallest way. 

“Then what should I do?” His voice is infuriatingly calm. “Ask to be spared?”

Light opens his mouth but he’s at a loss for words. Even he doesn’t know what he wants— but that’s the thing, he’s conflicted, and it’s reasonable. Where’s that conflict in L? The struggling, the strife. He  _ does _ want L to ask to live, wants to compromise, wants a possibility of coexistence. 

“What happened to an eye for an eye?”

“Make no mistake, Yagami-kun. I don’t believe Kira will ever achieve the future he’s envisioning. Even after I pass, there are others worthy of my name who will complete my work.”

“That’s not true. It’s not possible.”

“You’ll meet them eventually, Yagami-kun. I plan to leave you in good hands.”

It’s impossible. It’s only the two of them in the entire world who are at this level, which is exactly why L holds value. Were there any others then Light too would drop in value, would lose his only standing that made him feel deserving of L’s attention. 

There isn’t a single other worthy contender. After all, L is the number one, two, and three detective. Light, the first, the only to defeat him, must be special to him. 

“If you can’t, no one can. Don’t you understand that? Accepting your loss means accepting Kira’s win. You claim to be so against that kind of future, and yet you pave its path.” 

He can’t stand looking down at him on the floor so he steps closer and offers a hand, which is still raised even as his feet are swept out under him, swift and hard. He crashes on top of L, face slamming against his bony chest so hard his vision swims for a moment. He blearily raises his head to squint at L. “Very clever.”

“It was an accident, Yagami-kun. You need to watch where you’re going.”

He’s about to get up, that or punch L in the face again, but their faces are close. His chest tightens and body heats up, both betraying. 

Without much thought, he jams their lips together, and it’s not romantic at all, not in the least bit— but when he pulls back his face is flushed, it’s far from his first kiss but it’s the first that actually has him blushing, self conscious and possibly, perhaps the least bit shy. L stares at him and touches his mouth, pensive. 

“I expected Yagami-kun to be smoother than that.”

Spurred on by indignance and dissatisfaction, he takes both L’s shoulders in his hands, each knobby and stiff, and closes in on him with a second kiss. 

This one is longer, sweeter— literally, he takes the time to note L tastes like artificially strawberry, a contrast to his chapped lips, torn and thin. It suits him. 

L is unresisting beneath him but the kiss is still brief, quickly made breathless from his haste and thoughtlessness. Not much, but L’s also gone a shade or two darker, jaw slack and eyes wide as ever. Light’s heart stops, he leans down to kiss him again, but L turns his head to the side, shields his face with a hand. 

“You should know that such a thing won’t sway me.”

“...I know. That’s not why I'm doing it, though.”

_ I’m doing it because I want to.  _

He’s permitted a few more kisses before he’s kneed in the stomach, and L slips out from under him, face equally as red as Light’s, which eases his embarrassment but not his disappointment. 

Day 13:

The thirteenth day comes too soon. It’s reckless to wait so long, it’s too obvious, he hadn’t planned on using all thirteen. It’s a waste but it’s not. 

It’s raining again, after clear skies for the past thirteen days. It’s like the world is mourning for L. It bothers Light, who forgets an umbrella when he leaves his house. The downpour is sudden, beginning a few blocks from the office. He doesn’t bother running the rest of the way. He’s dead tired anyway. 

Fine. Whatever. Why should Light care more about L’s death than L himself? His desire to save L was a whim anyway, remnants of an alter, kinder self. He grew too used to being conscious of L, of tailoring his every action to suit his eyes, to try and pull the slightest shade over his eyes, a lighter, kinder one. 

But just as he grew accustomed to that life, he’ll grow used to his new one, his previous one. He’ll have the time and energy to further his plans— this is a good thing. It is. 

L, having not left in the first place, is unaffected by the rain, probably doesn’t even know about it since the room’s windowless. He doesn’t even notice when Light walks in, eyes closed as if deep in thought. He looks peaceful though, and so Light doesn’t speak, but L’s eyes open after a moment anyway. 

“Oh, sorry, Yagami-kun. I was hearing that sound again.”

Light doesn’t inquire. He knows this time. 

Light doesn’t hear any fucking bells though. He hears the drum of faroff rain, like an anxious, anticipating heartbeat, thudding until it stops completely. Like a clock ticking impossibly faster, independent of the concept of time, in its own race to the final boundary. Perhaps then, a sound will ring. Ideally, a wake up call. 

He needs to get over it and think for the future. He’s been so preoccupied he hasn’t even considered what to do tomorrow, nevertheless from now on. His previously formulated plans to usurp Kira, puppeteer the task force, take the note in his own hands once again— they’re only words, too weak to conjure images. He can’t concentrate, not with that damned rain outside. 

He still wants this. He  _ does _ . He relishes the responsibility, the promised land, the glory. He’ll now be a step closer. 

Rem watches Light, L watches Rem watch Light, and Light watches L watch Rem. The others are in a different room, doing grunt work on their computers, oblivious of what’s to come. 

Light doesn’t bother pretending. He only sits there, waiting. As does L. 

Neither of them turn to look, but they know when Rem fades away and out of the room. Knows what it means. Light’s chest is painfully hot and tight, so much so that for a split second he thinks his name was written rather than L’s. But no, this is his own reaction, derived solely from him. 

“Was it ever in your capacity to, at the very least, reconsider?”

“You’re asking if I have the emotional capacity to care for anyone else as much as I did for you.” L muses, biting his thumb nail, upturned eyes deceitfully innocent. 

He smiles. “Yes. There’s a lot Yagami-kun doesn’t know about me. I’m not as alone as you are.” His hand drops to his side and he leans back into his chair. “But, this is the most I can care for someone such as yourself. It’s more than I anticipated.”

“And how much is that?”

“If there must be a case I’ll never solve, I’m grateful it’s this one. 

They’re both still, and when the 40th second hits, Light’s arms are already opened to catch L’s body, the weight of him sinking Light to the ground. It’s intimate, and it’s not, for L is rapidly moving away, betrayed in his widening then narrowing eyes. But there’s a small smile on his lips, satisfied. Knowing. 

(There are cameras in the room, Light won’t be accused of anything) (Rem’s taken the other notebook, which will be left along with her own note atop her departed body) (Light and Misa have been completely, utterly cleared from suspicion)

Everything’s gone according to plan. Even Light’s planned reaction of a scream and cry, cradling L’s body against his own before it could hit the ground, staring into those black eyes with pained disbelief, and at his own foreign expression reflecting off them. 

Unrelated, Light wonders if he’ll be able to sense when his death has come. 

**Author's Note:**

> hey i’m just gonna rant in the notes here 
> 
> L’s line about Light never speaking the truth???? is one of the rawest things i’ve ever heard in my life and it makes my heart stop every single time. THATS what really gets me about this ship— that L knows and has always known that Light is a bad person, but befriends him anyway and cared for him regardless. i really do wonder about and if he felt conflict over it. ik the author said that L lied about Light being his friend but I CALL BS like sorry but u don’t know ur own character… Light is undeniably special to L, even in an unromantic sense, which is why i wrote his feelings ambiguously. it’s been years but i watched that one episode a few days ago and… still don’t know why L apologized. this fic is just me thinking about it lol but i’m still unsatisfied sigh 
> 
> i need to stop writing my character studies in fic form lmaooo nothing even happened i’m glad death note is mostly about people sitting around and talking anyway, it makes my writing look less bad. come gush over dn with me so i don’t feel like a fool revisiting it in 2020
> 
> oh and if u happen to have read my berserk fic you’d know i ripped off my own concept LOL i just love the idea of god complex and love not working together catch me writing it again and again.


End file.
